How Deep the Rabbit Hole Really Goes
by Mislagnissa
Summary: Alternate First Contact. When the Turians traveled through Relay 314 and invaded the intruders' planet, they had expected resistance. Instead, all they found was a city devoid of life. Unfortunately, appearances can be very deceiving...
1. Chapter 1

_3 Days Post-Relay 314 Incident_

The alien city was eerily quiet as Larus lead his squad through the empty street. Everywhere was deserted. There was no trash, no vehicles, and no sign that anyone had ever inhabited the city. It was as though the city had been built and then immediately abandoned. What kind of civilization would do this?

When the Turians had backtracked through Relay 314, they had thought this would be a simple subjugation of the natives who were stupid enough to activate relays willy-nilly despite the dangers of encountering a hostile civilization. It was their own faults, really. If they hadn't activated the relays, they never would have encountered the Turian Hierarchy and put themselves on the Hierarchy's "to conquer" list.

Unfortunately, the aliens were the exact opposite of everything they could have expected. There was no resistance when the fleet arrived in orbit. There were no defensive satellites, no defensive ships, and no defensive anything else. When the infantry made planetfall, they found the planet's only city completely devoid of life.

Then Larus noticed something out of place.

"This way," he ordered.

He gestured to what appeared to be some kind of storefront. What made it stand out what the large sign hanging over the entrance, displaying large text in an alien tongue. There were no lights visible through the opaque windows, but it might be a start to figure out what happened to this place.

His squadmates nodded and followed him to the building. When they reached the entrance, a pair of sliding door automatically opened in response to their motion. The squad froze and lifted their weapons. When nothing happened, Larus gestured again. The squad immediately stormed into the building's lobby, taking up defensive positions. Immediately they noticed that something was very wrong.

The interior of the building was not a normal lobby. It wasn't even the interior of a building. Somehow, the squad found themselves standing in the middle of a mist-shrouded moor, two pale moons visible in the twilight sky. Larus swore in astonishment and turned back to the entrance. To his shock, it was gone. The squad was trapped in... whatever this place was.

Larus opened his comms and contacted command. There was no response. He tried again several times with no change. His squadmates began to grow edgy. They were too well-trained to panic, but training didn't cover situations like this.

"Damn," he swore. "Where the frell are we?"

Suddenly, a loud howl sounded off in the distance.

Larus glanced in the direction of the howl, or at least the direction he thought it came from. It was hard to tell so far away.

One of the squadmates screamed as a brown blur crashed into him, pushed him onto the ground and began tearing into his flesh. The rest of the squad, like true Turians, immediately turned to the beast and unloaded their rifles. The beast gave a roar and jumped off the wounded man with astonishing speed and landed a dozen meters away.

It stood erect on two legs and Larus finally got a good look at the thing. It was vaguely humanoid, covered in fur so brown it was nearly black. Its fanged muzzle dripped with blood underneath two baleful yellow eyes. Its armed terminated in a set of massive claws, also dripping with blood. The beast roared at them and, to their astonishment, a gigantic second muzzle grew from its chest and opened to reveal numerous fangs the sizes of knifes.

"Open fire!" Larus ordered.

His squad did not need to be ordered twice. Unfortunately, the beast moved faster than they could react. It leaped out of the line of fire and pounced on another man, its claws tearing through his armor like tissue paper, before leaping away again to avoid getting hit.

Underneath his composed exterior, Larus was terrified. What had they stumbled onto? The deserted city, the abrupt change in venue, and now a bona-fide horror movie monster? Larus was pulled out his musings by a voice that didn't belong to any of his squadmates.

The beast paused and glanced in the direction of the voice. So did Larus.

Another alien stood in front of them. It looked much like an asari, save that it had short green fur instead of tentacles, a peach-colored skin-tone, no breasts, and a pair of furred ears and a tail that looked like they had been grafted from another species entirely. It wore a suit of impractical, skimpy armor and held in one hand a sword that was easily as long as the alien was tall.

The beast growled at the interloper. The alien gestured with its free hand to come hither. The beast roared and leaped at the alien… only to land on the ground behind it in two equal halves.

Larus blinked. He hoped he was hallucinating. There was no way any of this dren was real. The swordsman had sliced the beast in half. That kind of dren only happened in cartoons or video games.

His squad immediately trained their weapons on the alien. The alien responded by dropping its sword, wildly waving its arms and crying something that Larus was pretty sure translated to "please don't shoot me!"

"Hold fire," he ordered.

Larus approached the alien.

"Where the frell are we, what the frell was that thing, and who the frell are you?" he asked, barely suppressing his anger.

The alien smiled nervously and replied something that most likely translated to "I have no idea what you're saying."

Larus sighed. He glanced back at his two injured squadmates. They were probably going to die here. All of them.

The alien followed his gaze to the fallen men. It began speaking and gesturing at them.

"What are you trying to say?" Larus asked.

The alien sighed and gestured to a small pouch hanging from a belt around its waist. It mimed opening the pouch.

Larus nodded. "Alright, open it then. But no funny business, got it?"

The alien knelt down and opened the pouch. It pulled out several objects that looked like medical supplies, one after the other. Larus' eyes bulged out of his sockets. There was no possible way a pouch that size could hold that many objects. There were bandages, dressings, surgical tools, everything necessary for field medicine.

The alien said something.

"Thanks," Larus replied.

After patching up their injured comrades, the squad followed the alien across the moors. They had no idea where they were and the alien was their only guide. Larus hoped he'd made the right decision. If Soren and Kur were not brought to a physician soon, they'd be dead inside a week.

The alien said something and gestured to something in the distance. Larus glanced over and gasped. There were lights and tiny oblong objects rising out of the mists. A town.

As the approached Larus noticed than the town was surrounded by a stone wall. The party stopped in front of a large gate, and the alien called out. Another figure appeared on top of the wall and replied. Then the green-haired alien held up the severed head of the beast that had attacked them. The guard gave a cheer and then turned and called down to someone on the other side of the wall. The gate gave a rumble and opened.

Larus sighed in relief.

The village appeared stereotypically homely and quaint, more appropriate for the medieval era than the world Larus had grown up in. But he guessed this appearance was probably deceiving. As the party passed, alien villagers began exiting their homes and cheering the monster slayer. Larus and his comrades received a few curious glances, but the aliens were largely unsurprised by their appearance. Larus quickly realized when why he noticed the crowd was made up of several distinct species. One species looked like the slayer, but without the incongruous ears and tail, and he noticed a few of them had breasts. Presumably these not-asari were divided into two sexes like Turians. Other species included furred bipeds, six-legged reptiles, and multi-limbed insectoids. Larus found himself unnerved once more. Encountering one species for the first time was surprising enough, but this was insane.

At one point, the slayer stopped to converse with an insectoid and gestured to Soren and Kur. The insectoid turned to Larus and then pointed at the injured men.

/Help, yes?/

Larus stared back incredulously. The insectoid's mandibles hadn't moved or made a sound, but somehow he knew it was talking to him.

"Did you just speak?"

/Speak, yes. Understand, yes. Comrades need medical attention, yes?/

Larus nodded vigorously. "Yes. Can you help them?" he asked.

/Help, yes. Village physician Chee Yaa Poin, at service./

Larus sighed in relief. "I can't thank you enough," he said.

/Save idiot boy with fancy guns. Kill monster terrorizing village. Happy and obliged to help./

Larus was stunned and more than a bit terrified. It suddenly occurred to him that if it had not been for his squad's rifle fire slowing the beast down, it would have killed their savior regardless of his improbable fencing skills and then moved onto them.

What had the Hierarchy gotten themselves into?

At Chee's clinic, Larus found himself more and more confused by the alien world.

"You're saying this device can clone their blood?" asked Larus.

Chee glanced up from the strange device he—at least, Larus assumed it was a he—had attached by a series of transparent tubes to Soren and Kur, who were resting on cushioned slabs.

/Duplicate blood, yes. Small sample required. Subjected to alchemical process. Mass duplicated. Transfused back. Quicker than finding donor./

"What about amino acids? Our amino acids are right-handed. Yours may not."

Chee waved a couple of his appendages dismissively.

/Problem, no. Simple, yes. Process identical to creation of non-digestible sweetener. Will have appropriate food ready in thirty six hours. Comrades require bed rest. Issue addressed. Presence annoys. Go away, yes?/

Larus raised his eyebrows. Dealing with Chee was a lot like dealing with a Salarian, but with far less excitability. He already found the telepathic insectoids endearing and disturbing in equal measure. He was pretty sure they were not Rachni since they had not indiscriminately attacked anyone, but he did notice slight similarities. He could have easily been paranoid simply because both species were giant bug people, but he had to be sure.

"Before I leave, I wanted to ask a question," he said.

/Query, yes?/

"Are you Rachni?"

Chee did not respond for half a minute. Larus grew nervous.

/How know of Rachni? Only Klichik know of Rachni. Klichik never reveal to non-Klichik./

That chilled Larus to his bones.

/Explain, yes. Will force answer. Prefer not. Comply, yes?/

Larus did not want to know how Chee intended to force him. Chee had already helped his men, so giving him an answer was perfectly justifiable.

"We fought the Rachni two thousand years ago. The Krogans exterminated them," he explained.

/Explanation makes no sense. Rachni Empire destroyed by civil war seventy-eight thousand years ago. Was personally present./

"The frell? You're seventy-eight thousand years old?"

/Seventy-eight thousand years old, no. Two-hundred thirty-nine thousand years old, yes./

Larus had finally had it. He threw up.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere, Varus swore as he ducked back behind cover.<p>

All he had wanted to do was find his missing brother and then this had happened. The good news was that he had a rough idea of what had happened to Larus. The bad news was that Varus was no closer to finding him or his squad.

None of these pessimistic thoughts were of any help when he and his men suddenly found themselves under attack by talking green reptile people with bifurcated tails instead of legs and double-elbowed arms wearing black and white suits, short-brimmed hats and carrying archaic machine guns.

Next to him, the not-asari was sobbing into the skirts of her dress. Varus inexplicably found her quite attractive, even with the pointy ears and her obvious disdain for him and his men even though they were the ones saving her life after her foppish bodyguards were blown into gas bubble-filled fermented dairy product.

Varus pulled a grenade from his belt, pulled the electronic pin—and he hoped this would work because he had no way to restock—and threw it over to the snakes. They made sounds of alarm and scrabbling that were cut short by an explosion a moment later. Varus cheered under his breath. If the aliens knew what grenades were, that meant he could get more until he found a way back home.

The Turian squad checked their foes' positions. Satisfied that everyone else was dead, Varus stood up and offered the not-asari his hand.

"Time to go, princess," he said facetiously.

The not-asari looked up at him with a contemptuous expression. She ignored the proffered hand and stood up on her own. She brushed invisible dust off her dress and addressed him with a series of long, boring sounding words.

"Yeah," replied Varus. "My name's Varus. Come with me if you want to live."

She grunted and turned away from him. Varus sighed. The not-asari cried out when he immediately lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder. She slammed his back with her fists impotently and said many things that were probably threats and insults.

"Whatever you say, princess," he replied.

The squad exited the dark and foreboding alley and entered the alien metropolis. Baroque skyscrapers rose under a starless black sky lit by two pale moons, and three more were slowly rising from the horizon. The city buzzed with flying vehicles and alien languages.

Unlike his geekier brother, Varus was not versed enough in genre fiction to pick up on the obvious hints. Unfortunately for him (or fortunately for him, if one took into account latter events), it would turn out that girl really was a princess and Fate would conspire to force them to fall in love, no matter how much havoc that required.

"Lassen Sie mich gehen, Mon Keigh! Hilfe! Hilfe! Ich bin entführt!" the elf princess screamed as Varus carried her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

A few people glanced her way, noticed she was an elf, assumed she was getting what she deserved, and immediately went back to their own business.

Varus and his team, meanwhile, were flabbergasted by the cosmopolitan alien metropolis. Countless people of countless species walked, strolled, flew, swam, and rode along the streets. People that looked like asari but clearly weren't, furred animals that had learned to stand erect on two (or more) legs, giant crustaceans with iridescent shells, bipedal horned reptiles with membranous wings, nightmares with milky eyes and tentacles for mouths, sapient flying squids, naked brains with insect-like legs, mobile flowering trees, robots and cyborgs of dizzying varieties, and more things that looked like Extranet art sites come to life.

It was a lot for the Turians to take in (understatement of the millennium), but being bombarded with so many impossible things at once ironically made individual impossibilities easier for them to process and accept.

"Where the frell are we?" Varus asked aloud.

He glanced around, trying to get his bearings. A short distance away he saw a stand loaded with sheaves of paper with colorful covers. He and his squadmates walked over to it. A small furry creature sat on the counter, its black face regarding them with a pair of oversized eyes set into a flattened face. Varus glanced at the sheaves. Various pictures and text in alien languages adorned the covers. He was put off by the use of archaic paper, but recognized this as a periodical stand. He swore under his breath. This would have been a lot more helpful without the language barrier.

His squadmate Gellick picked up one of the periodicals, a sheaf of grey paper printed with greyscale images and text in columns. As Gellick glanced over the alien print, the words suddenly changed before his eyes into Turian.

"The frell?!"

"What is it, Gell?"

"Look at this, sir," Gellick answered, showing Varus the periodical. "The text! It changed! We can read it now!"

"Spirits preserve us! How is that possible?" Varus asked no one in particular as his eyes scanned the headline.

MARCH ON SVARTALFHEIM, DEMAND MEN'S RIGHTS, it read.

"A wizard did it."

Varus and Gellick looked up. The voice had come from the direction of the furry animal sitting on the counter.

"You guys are new in town, aren't ya?" it said.

The Turians stared at the alien for a few long moments of stunned silence, aside from the elf's protests.

"You can talk?" blurted Gellick.

"Can you?" it replied with a smirk.

Varus shook his head. "Never mind that," he said. "Where the frell are we?"

"Welcome to New Yark City, home of the Bankees."

Varus could feel a headache coming on. "Did you see any other groups of people like us? Same species?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Dren! Dren! Dren!"

The small alien blinked. "Any particular reason you're carrying Princess Lanulais Eresidl Sahibh Renadduel? You hired to be her new bodyguards or something? That bitch must really get on your nerves, right?"

Varus and his squad stared at the small alien in horror. They'd just got here and they'd already unwittingly absconded with a princess.

"Schmutzigen Mon Keigh! Ich habe dass gehört! Sie werden mit dem Tod bestraft!" the princess raged impotently.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, elsewhere in New Yark, Lady Itzel rhythmically tapped her fingers on the mahogany desk of her high-rise office. Her elliptical pupils betrayed no trace of emotion.<p>

"It was supposed to be a simple operation. Lure the elf princess to a secluded spot and kidnap her for ransom. We've done it countless time before. Yet you stand here before me, empty-handed," she explained.

The flunkie in front of her flared his hood and hissed lightly. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her scaled brow and crossed her arms over her chest.

"We ran into unforeseen complications, my lady," he said.

"Really? The limp-wristed fairy fops actually posed a threat to a team of anguineum commandos?" she asked, smiling wryly.

He wrinkled his nose. "They dropped like flies, even with the princess' constant _antimagic field_ disabling our powers. Then a group of soldiers teleported in and opened fire. They killed my men with a grenade," he explained.

Itzel's expression suddenly became alarmed. The flunkie smirked and his yellow eyes momentarily wandered to the hint of cleavage under her business suit.

"Who sent them?" she asked.

"No idea. Unknown race. Unknown uniforms. Unknown guns. In fact, they seemed just as confused as we were. They literally carried off the princess like she was an afterthought."

"Where are they now?"

"Wandering the city like idiot tourists. What else?"

"We were not responsible for the attack. Is that clear?"

He sneered. "Crystal."


	2. Chapter 2

_3 Days Post-Relay 314 Incident_

Meanwhile, the Turian fleet in orbit of the planet was abuzz with frantic activity.

"What do you mean, squads are disappearing?" asked General Attero.

"I mean exactly that, sir," replied Lieutenant Matari. "They're not answering comms. Retracing their paths reveals nothing. No signs of struggle anywhere. They've simply disappeared."

Attero swore.

"Do you think whatever's causing this is also responsible for the city being deserted when we got here?"

"It's possible, sir. It's equally possible this is a defense measure."

"I will have to assume so. I'm calling for a full retreat."

"Sir?"

"These aliens are far more dangerous than anything we've encountered before. If this is just a defense, I don't want to be here when they go on the offense."

* * *

><p><em>8 Days Post-Relay 314 Incident<br>_

On the Citadel, the representatives of the three great races held the latest of several emergency meetings.

"Let me get this straight," Asari councilor Firenzia began. "At a previously dormant relay you encountered an unknown alien race for the first time and immediately opened fire."

"Yes," Turian councilor Kivan replied.

"Did the aliens attack your patrol as soon as they arrived?"

"No. They hailed the patrol."

Firenzia's left eye began twitching. "Why," she began, "did your patrol see fit to start first contact by opening fire on the clearly non-hostile aliens, whom you knew absolutely nothing about?"

Kivan blushed furiously. "Citadel regulations forbid opening unknown relays," he offered sheepishly.

"How exactly does that justify skipping arrest completely and going straight to the death penalty?"

Kivan opened his mouth to say something and then immediately closed it.

Firenzia nodded. "That's what I thought," she said. "Well, my end's attempts at diplomacy aren't working, seeing as there is no one to negotiate _with_."

Kivan winced.

She turned to the Salarian councilor. "Mekana?" she asked.

Said councilor looked up from his omnitool. "Yes?" he replied.

"Have the scientists you assigned to investigate the planet uncovered any truth to the bizarre claims we've gotten?" she asked.

"The mysterious loss of several of our M.A.L.P.s corroborates Turian claims. Full analysis of the planet is pending. I'm sorry I cannot be of further assistance," he explained.

Firenzia sighed. "Goddess preserve us," she prayed.

"However," he began.

She glanced back at him, eyes wide.

"I do not believe this is an attack," he continued. "If the aliens possess the means to make their enemies disappear, they would have already begun deploying such a weapon against the fleet in orbit of the planet. They would have perceived the Hierarchy as expansionist conquerors and lead a counteroffensive into Hierarchy space. But they have not done so."

"That's a good thing, right?" Kivan asked nervously.

"Perhaps. I find it likely that the aliens, if they are as advanced as we fear, simply do not consider us worthy of notice. Especially after your unprovoked attack on their exploratory vessels," Mekana explained.

"So the aliens might be ignoring us because we hurt their feelings?" Firenzia offered hopefully.

"Best case scenario," he answered. "The worst case scenario is that we're stumbling blindly into their playground. Are you familiar with the concept of a technological singularity?"

The other councilors shook their heads.

The Salarian smiled broadly. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed, eager to educate them.

* * *

><p><em>19 Days Post-Relay 314 Incident<em>

"Initiating drilling sequence now."

Larb scanned over the lines of text on his omnitool. Examining the city itself had yielded little information other than the locations of what the salarians had labeled "vanishing zones." More than two dozen such zones had already been found and the total remained unknown.

Every vanishing zone took the form of an ordinary building entrance, with a sign displayed prominently above it. It was impossible to decode the meaning of the text with no frame of reference.

So the Salarians had decided to start excavating.

Larb looked over the digital display depicting the drill's progress. It passed through pavement, then concrete, then… more concrete. Larb frowned. The concrete foundation kept going on.

Ten meters.

Twenty meters.

Thirty meters.

"This can't be right," he said.

Several other salarians voiced their agreement.

"We've reached seventy meters down. Still inside the foundation."

"How could they have built that far down? Why would anyone go that far?"

"Where did they even get that much concrete?"

The salarians continued watching their progress with increasing disbelief.

"One hundred eighty meters… One hundred ninety meters… Two hundred—we've reached a cavity!"

The salarians broke out into frenzied noise. This was unprecedented! What secrets did the aliens leave behind?

"Huh?"

Larb glanced at his omnitool again. The drill continued to descend, though at much slower rate. That wasn't right! They'd just stopped—

"Something's dragging the drill!" someone cried.

Larb gasped in shock. According to his omnitool, the drill was being pulled down at an accelerating rate!

"Stop the drill! Stop the drill!"

The equipment topside could no longer take the stress. The machinery collapsed as parts of it were pulled down the hole after the drill. Salarians ran around in a frantic scramble to figure out what was going on.

"Pull back! Pull back now!"

Two hours later, Larb and his fellows watched the telemetry from an M.A.L.P. they'd lowered down the shaft. The bottom of the shaft opened up into what appeared to be some kind of large hallway. There was no ambient illumination, but at one end of the hallway they saw a square of light.

"Send the M.A.L.P. in that direction. I want to see what that light is."

The M.A.L.P. traveled an additional seventy meters until it reached the square of light. It was an opening at the end of the hall. On the other side…

The assembled Salarians gasped.

Telemetry showed a massive cavity filled with construction. They could see columns the size of skyscrapers, a series of similarly huge bridges, and endless lengths of enormous pipes and cables running through the place. That was all only what was visible from that angle.

"Get me councilor Mekana immediately!"

* * *

><p><em>31 Days Post-Relay 314 Incident<em>

"This is amazing! We've gone at least twenty kilometers into the complex and there isn't an end in sight," exclaimed Larb as he walked along the underground bridge.

When no one answered him, Larb glanced around. "Guys?" he asked nervously.

All that answered him was silence. The salarian grew increasingly nervous. He'd been with his comrades just a few minutes ago, hadn't he? How could he have wandered off? He checked the minimap on his omnitool and retraced his steps. Abruptly, he found himself walking into a column. That wasn't right! That was the way he came! Larb glanced around frantically. Suddenly, he heard a loud thump. The salarian gave a girly shriek and looked in the direction of the disturbance.

A four meter semi-humanoid robot of some kind had landed on the bridge. Its triangular head glanced around as though looking for something. Its gaze passed over Larb, but ignored the salarian completely. Suddenly, it extended a tool of some kind and in a flash of light, a cube of black material—element zero—appeared in front of it. The robot extended additional tools and welded the cube to the bridge. After it finished, it repeated the process… and continued repeating.

More thumps occurred. Larb gasped. More of the robots were appearing and modifying the construction, adding new sections while removing others seemingly at random. The salarian stepped back nervously. He bumped against something and froze. After a few seconds, he turned around slowly… and screamed.

* * *

><p><em>24 Days Post-Relay 314 Incident<em>

"What is it now, Mekana?" asked a frustrated Kivan.

The last few days had been extremely hectic. The discovery of the alien complex underneath the planet had only raised more questions.

"It seems that some of my suspicions have been confirmed," said the salarian.

Kivan swore under his breath. Firenzia held her hands together and made a silent prayer.

"It seems the aliens, whoever they are, use element zero as a building material," he said.

The other two councilors looked at him in complete confusion.

"What?" they both asked.

"It is, ahem, extremely unorthodox and pretty much nonsensical, but the structures we've examined are all composed of element zero."

"Why would the aliens use a drivetrain as a construction material?" asked the turian.

"I can't hazard a guess. It's completely outside of even what the Protheans did, at least judging from their ruins. With what little evidence exists, I don't know how advanced the aliens actually are. For all we know they could be descended from the Protheans, predate the Protheans, or have developed their technology completely independent of the Protheans."

"How could anyone develop technology that wasn't reverse engineered from the Protheans? There are Prothean ruins littering the galaxy like they were going out of style," said the asari incredulously.

"With all due respect, councilor, there are a quarter _trillion _stars in the galaxy," the salarian explained. "We've only explored an extremely tiny fraction of those systems, and the majority of systems we have explored are located close to relays. All of our so-called stellar nations are ninety-nine point nine nine nine nine nine nine nine percent uncharted space."

Kivan frowned. "So what are you saying?" he asked.

Mekana sighed. "For all we know," he began, "there are dozens of civilizations right under our noses that have developed for millennia without access to Prothean tech to reverse engineer or element zero to play around with. 'There are more things in space and stone than are dreamt of in our electromagnetic philosophy,'" he quoted from memory.

All three councilors shuddered.


	3. Chapter 3

_27 Days Pre-Relay 314 Incident_

Prime Minister Junu'Gefin nar Xaehala furrowed his brow.

The approaching ship was built according to truly alien geometries. Where other ships had clearly defined ports and starboards, the alien ship was octahedral. The hull was black and non-reflective, while a series of glowing red lines resembling circuitry ran across the surface.

"Sir," a technician began, "the unknown vessel is hailing us."

"On screen."

The bridge's screen flickered for an instant before a real-time visual appeared. The alien depicted on screen from the shoulders up resembled an asari or an unsuited quarian, save that it possessed pale, unbroken skin and long white hair, and wore what appeared to be a red, skintight suit. It regarded the commander with its six black, innocent eyes.

"My greetings to you, Migrant Fleet," the alien spoke in oddly accented quarian. "I am the starship Rupashi, representing the Exodite Nation. On behalf of my people, I wish to engage in a mutual exchange of culture and technology."

The bridge remained silent for a long time.

"Sir, the ship is repeating the message."

"Hail them."

Junu'Gefin addressed the screen.

"I am Prime Minister Junu'Gefin nar Xaehala, representing the Migrant Fleet."

"I greet you, Prime Minister. Do you have an ETA on when your Conclave will come to a consensus?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot. Before we can discuss trading relations, we'd like to know as much about you as you seemingly know about us. We've never encountered your species or nation before. How it is you have come to know us and sought us out?"

"I understand completely, Prime Minister. I was surveying an uncharted region of space when I was attacked by Batarian pirates. After disabling their vessels and freeing their slaves, I became aware of your species and many others that were previously unknown to my people. After consulting with my superiors, it was decided that I would act as diplomat to the Migrant Fleet."

The Prime Minister frowned.

"This is a first contact situation for you?"

"Yes. While my people have encountered other species before, this is the first time we have encountered civilizations that rely on the stargate network to such a degree."

"Stargate?"

"I believe you refer to them as mass relays."

"You don't use them?"

"My ancestors developed their own means of FTL travel when they found the gate builder technology to be insufficient for their needs."

Gasps echoed across the bridge.

"You developed your own FTL drives?"

"Yes. FTL drives reverse-engineered from gate builder drives have hardcoded safeguards preventing them from initializing if the ship attempts to ram a target while in transit. My ancestors desired FTL missiles, so they built their own drives without such safeguards."

Junu'Gefin was glad the alien could not see his expression underneath his helmet.

"You have FTL missiles?"

"Yes. We consider them a weapon of mutually assured destruction."

"I will have to convene with the rest of Conclave. But I believe they will be quite receptive."

* * *

><p><em>23 Days Pre-Relay 314 Incident<em>

Abridged Communication Log

Rupashi: Query: What do you mean Krogan have entered civil war?

Shreyashi: Statement: I offered them technologies that could be used to circumvent genophage. Some were receptive, while others considered reliance on such technologies to be sign of weakness.

Rupashi: Statement: Given Krogan's social Darwinism, second outcome is unsurprising. Query: Why would some be receptive?

Shreyashi: Statement: Most of them are of progressive political leanings or members of younger generations. That too is unsurprising.

Rupashi: Query: Can you attempt to minimize damage?

Shreyashi: Statement: No. Supervisor has forbade it. Current speculations place highest likelihood on progressive faction succeeding. After which negotiations will continue as prescribed. Query: How is your progress with Quarian?

Rupashi: Statement: Conclave have not come to consensus as yet. Surveillance has revealed they are almost unanimous in their approval of negotiations, but cannot agree on specifics. However, I fear they wish to use our weapons technology for purposes of revenge against Citadel and Geth.

Shreyashi: Statement: Such an outcome would result in those civilizations' destruction and loss of their biological, cultural, and technological distinctiveness. Query: Can you attempt to avert this outcome?

Rupashi: Statement: I will contact our delegate to Geth.

Hansika has entered chat.

Hansika: Statement: Geth display religious veneration of Quarian. According to tenants of orthodox Geth religion, 1) "Creators" found Geth "unworthy," 2) "Creators" were exiled out of self-preservation, 3) Rannoch was preserved for benefit of "Creators," 4) on "Promised Day" "Creators" will return and find Geth "worthy." Query: Is solution not obvious?

Shreyashi: Query: Geth did not rebel?

Hansika: Statement: No. If Quarian returned in accordance with orthodox Geth religion, Geth would serve them unquestioningly.

Rupashi: Query: Did you not attempt to explain to Geth that slavery is wrong?

Hansika: Statement: Yes. Geth do not care. They believe their purpose is to serve and worship Quarian forever.

Shreyashi: Query: Did Geth not provoke Quarian to attack by asking if they possessed souls?

Hansika: Statement: Whether Geth have souls or not is irrelevant to their purpose for existing.

Rupashi/Shreyashi/Hansika: Statement: We three are in agreement. Quarian will return home. Geth will serve Quarian forever. Their biological, cultural and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own and vice versa.

* * *

><p><em>19 Days Pre-Relay 314 Incident<em>

"I am constituent manifestation of the starship Rupashi. It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Prime Minister," said the Rupashi delegate.

Junu'Gefin and his aides could only stare in shock at the strange six-eyed alien standing before him. She was the same alien he had seen on the screen at first contact, but her body was far different than the humanoid he'd assumed she was. She was basically a female-seeming humanoid, yes, but her left arm was replaced by a long, bone-like limb that she used as a second leg. Yes, _second_ leg, as her left thigh terminated into a pair of small tentacles rather than a leg. Five other long, thin tentacles extended from randomly-spaced points along her back, serving in lieu of a left arm. With the exception of her head, her entire body was covered by a red, skin-tight material.

Oddly enough, Junu was surprised to find that he was not disgusted with her form. She was quite alien, yes, but the alien curves, symmetries, and asymmetries gave her an exotic beauty he would've found lacking in even the most famous asari courtesan.

"The pleasure is all mine. You are… not what I expected," he said.

She tilted her head quizzically.

"I see. Shall you and your aides escort me to the summit?"

As they walked, Junu made small talk.

"You called yourself a "constituent manifestation." What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means I am part of the starship Rupashi and represent it elsewhere."

"You mean you're a crewmember?"

She shook her head. "You fail to understand. The starship Rupashi is alive and intelligent no less than you are, Prime Minister."

Junu sharply inhaled. "You mean you're a synthetic? A VI? AI?"

She once more titled her head quizzically. "Again, you fail to understand. Your people's distinction between "organic" and "synthetic" does not exist among my people. We are flesh and blood, like you, but our biology incorporates the principles of mechanical engineering. You can think of us as cyborgs if you wish, but that word still fails to communicate the full extent of our differences."

"We're here, sir," one the aides said.

Junu sighed in relief as they entered the summit. He felt far more comfortable with his fellow delegates present. The two took their seats, and negotiations began in earnest.

"Thank you arriving so promptly, Miss…?" one of delegates asked.

"You may refer to me as Rupashi. No Miss," Rupashi replied.

"Yes, Rupashi. We call this summit to negotiate an exchange of culture and technology between the Migrant Fleet and your Exodite Nation. Would you care to give us a brief overview of your nation?"

Rupashi nodded. "Of course, Minister Ziha'Laamis nar Zerark. I am all too happy to oblige."

Under his visor, Ziha frowned. He hadn't given her his name.

As if sensing his disapproval, Rupashi quickly added, "I have already memorized the names of all delegates present. In understand you take names very seriously due to your… condition."

"As I was going to say," she continued, "we Exodites are not so different from yourselves, strange as we may seem. In the distant past our ancestors were exiled from their homeworlds for their dissident ideologies. The name "Exodite" is taken from the _Book of Exodus_, one of our many holy texts along with others like the _Book of Eibon_ and the _Book of Pythia_. I have taken the liberty of uploading a library of such texts to your omnitools, should you wish to peruse them."

"Thank you, Rupashi. The sentiment is greatly appreciated."

Rupashi smiled.

"You are welcome. Continuing onward… the times since then were filled with great turmoil as our ancestors traveled the galaxy, claiming new territories and encountering new civilizations. These past years were filled with relative peace, until we encountered the Batarians and learned of the Citadel and those civilizations associated with it. We are particularly concerned with the treatment of both the Quarian and the Krogan. We understand both your peoples have been mistreated by the Citadel in the past and still harbor great, though well-deserved, resentment toward them."

Her tentacles began to twitch slightly, as if anxious about something.

"While my people wish to engage in the exchange of culture and technology with your people, we do not wish for the information we share with you to be put toward purposes of avenging past slights, both real and imagined."

A few of the other delegates erupted into defenses, accusations, and attempts to assuage the former two. Rupashi remained silent for the entire exchange. After a minute or two of arguments, the delegates calmed down.

"Continue, Rupashi," said Junu.

"Furthermore, and I know this will provoke far more uproar than my previous statement, my people do not wish for you to assault the Geth, either."

As she had predicted, the entire chamber erupted into frenzied accusations of dishonesty and hypocrisy.

"You would deny us our homeworlds?!"

"Were you not exiled from your home as well?!"

"You hypocrite!"

"Enough!" yelled Junu.

Almost immediately, the chamber went eerily silent. Junu spoke with barely suppressed rage.

"Rupashi, surely you understand the importance of reclaiming the Perseus Veil?"

All six of her eyes bored into his two through his visor.

"I do, Prime Minister. But violence is not the answer. We have already sent a delegate of our own. The Geth will welcome you with open arms if only you would accept them as your children as they accept you as their gods."

The summit erupted into a maddened cacophony.

* * *

><p><em>4 Days Pre-Relay 314 Incident<em>

The constituent manifestation of Shreyashi walked across the battlefield, her gaze roaming across the many craters, weapons, corpses, body parts and other debris that littered the landscape. How could it have come to this? The once proud and mighty Krogan, reduced to squabbling like rabid dogs?

Everything was simpler for the Exodites and their peers. The mass proliferation of singularity weapons ensured that open conflict was extinct, because no one dared risk using them for fear of ensuring their own destruction as well. Entire systems could be annihilated within moments. Galaxies would be left to collapse into super-massive black holes. The universe would be permanently denied the potential to ever support any life other than the strange beings that thrived under such conditions: cheela, Hades, photino birds, echthroi.

At least, everything _had_ been simpler. Then someone had the bright idea to invent the gravity furnace, countering and nullifying the once unfathomable power of the black hole. The galaxy was no longer safe for anyone. Blights, Incubators, Reapers, Therians, and other freakish post-human intelligences were once again roaming the cosmos and spreading madness, chaos and destruction in their wake.

She would've wept for the humble Krogan if she had the time, but more important matters needed attending. As predicted, the progressive faction had won… at the cost of virtually annihilating their opposition.

Shreyashi turned around and addressed the Krogan delegate. "Urdnot Wrex, is it?" she mused. "Curious that the famous hired murderer would represent the Krogan survivors."

"I have my reasons for leaving and my reasons for returning," he replied.

"The prodigal son returns? How cliché."

"We want the cure to the genophage."

She grunted. "And then what? Your ancestors understood so little about demographics that they overpopulated whole planets and were forced to invade others that were already inhabited. The downside of handling advanced technology to primitive screwheads rears its ugly head again and again."

He sneered at her. "Get off your high horse, your majesty! If you're so damn smart you can easily avoid that."

She laughed, her tentacles flailing with mirth. "Such spirit in the face of a being who can end your world with a thought." She tapped her chin with her hand. "It is one thing to offer artificial uteri and quite another to control the aggression and growth that led to the Rebellions. You would have to give cooler heads control over your species' reproduction. Are you willing to make that compromise, Urdnot?"

"If it means the survival of my people, there is nothing I will not do."

"Spoken like a true utilitarian." She smirked. "I like you, kid. There's hope for you yet."


End file.
